


Obscura

by scorchedmint



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a sad ending, Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Everyone Dies But Him, M/M, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 10:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorchedmint/pseuds/scorchedmint
Summary: The three men you kept closest to you were gone, now, over the course of those long years. Your sun, your stars, your moon.All that was left was you.--Drabbles told from Ignis' perspective, of the men he loved, and the men he lost.





	1. Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this written up for forever, but somehow forgot to post it? So here, take this angstfest. <3

You were young when you were told you belonged to him.

He was a baby, small and fragile, his grip tight on your thumb. His father looked at you fondly and told you that he hoped you'd come to love him. He chuckled when you said you already had.

You ignore the guilt in your gut when his mother passes, the boy never having known her. You fill the role easily and he clings to you as he always has. His eyes are always filled with warmth in those early years.

Later, you hold him in the night as he grieves his father's death, clinging to your shirt and soaking it through. The sun stretches high in the sky by the time he's finished, shaking in your grip, and you kiss his hair and tell him you love him.

All of you were on the road for what felt like months, the small tent and occasional motel your homes. You always spread out your cookware no matter where you went, made the young king something sweet, and watched him melt onto the taste. It was a simple joy, and he needed all he could get.

You rest by the beach once, spread out underneath the stars. He's tucked to your side, and you don't dare sleep now, not like this. He hums against your chest.

He wakes when you shift, the sun peeking up over the ocean and back lighting him, his hair a smoking halo and sleep-glazed eyes a pool of affection. You kiss him lazily for the last time.

He's alone when he goes and you never forgive yourself for not being there. You collapse on the spot, metal digging into your knees, a sob choking you as the realization that you may never be near him again settles in your stomach.

It takes you days to leave, the two men by your side carrying you out. You asked them to let you die there.

As the years passed, and your friends too, you feel isolated as ever. You ask the woman at the garage how long its been since the sun died. She tells you _too long_ , resting her hand on your arm and gripping it tightly.

And when he comes back, _gods_.

He asks for them, where they've gone. You swallow around a dry lump in your throat, hand clenching your cane, and he touches your shoulder. He doesn't say anything about the cracks in your voice when you tell him _they're gone_. You lead him to the caravan you've made your home, take him into your arms and collapse to the floor.

 _They loved you,_ you say, kissing his cheeks and nose and lips, whispering apologies and holding him tight. _They loved you so much, please don't cry, please._ The scruff on his jaw tickles your throat when he buries himself in your neck as _they_ once had.

You lay, spent, your alarm going off to tell you its 'morning'. You bid him goodbye at the castle, fists shaking, shoulders straight. He says that he'll _see you soon,_ and you ignore the dread in your heart.

The sun rises, the smell of tar and blood long gone with the deamons.

He doesn't come back out.

You make your way back to Hammerhead, aching, tired.


	2. Starlight

He is a beast of a man, you think as you watch him over dinner preparations. His muscles bulge as he does one-armed push ups, drawing your eye over his shoulders and back.  You wonder if he knows the meaning of relaxation.

The man has always been this way; strong, dedicated, obligated by birth to be an object. You asked him once if it made him uncomfortable, and he got so quiet you could hear his heartbeat. He told you that _this was his fate; he couldn't change it, and doesn't want to_. His smile gleams like stars.

 

When the night falls and the stars come out, you compare him to them over a beer at camp. His laugh is a warm rumble that blooms in your chest like his namesake, and you flush so darkly as he rests his hand on yours. 

 

You remember loving him, his skin flush to yours, the luxury of renting two hotel rooms granting you the right to scream his name like prayer. He leaves marks on your throat that he knows will be covered by your conservative clothing, and you wish they would never fade. 

 

He won't touch you after you've lost your sight, your aching chest lost on his guilt ridden mind. You tell yourself its for the best.

 

In the decade when your king is missing, as he feels like he's lost purpose, you hardly hear him, touch him. He's a breath on the wind, a ghost that haunts your nightmares. In the time before his death, he only came to you twice, whispering apologies against the scars on your eyes. 

 

He's gone before the sun ever comes up again. You hold yourself tightly, allowing yourself only a moment of sorrow.

 

You hum his favorite song as you make his favorite meal, and eat in solitude.


	3. Quicksilver

He had already been radiant; a glimmering gem, a warm flame.

He burns so brightly you can't see him directly; but through a lens, always through a lens. He is sunlight, and you are the curtain that obscures him, blinding in a different way than his gleaming grin. To be near him is to experience joy in it's purest form, a love afforded to a solemn few.

He draws you close now, in his bed, where he divulges the secrets of his body and mind to you.

He's still as stone, shaking, moaning your name like hallelujah. He tells you that you're his light. You laugh and tell him that  _you're not a sun_ , that  _he is_ , and  _you are the obstruction that keeps him from the world_.

It feels selfish, later, with your sight stolen from you, that you bed him still. He asks  _if it hurt you terribly_ , his voice a shaking leaf in the wind. You hum and tell him not to worry now. The warmth from his smile warms your cheeks.  _Even now_ , you say, heart lurching,  _you keep him from the world_.

When the light touches you, a decade late, your heart hurts. It burns in your chest, an inferno of bittersweet memories searing against your eyelids. The three men you kept closest to you were gone, now, over the course of those long years. Your sun, your stars, your moon. All that was left was you.

You shut the curtains in your room, lay on your bed, and sleep.


End file.
